A/N: This chapter has been painful on so many levels. Today is the five months anniversary of my father's passing and I can honestly say that there is no better way for me honor him than to post this. I said it on Facebook, and I am going to say it again here. My amazing friend Jami has been my rock while developing and writing this chapter. Many of the things in this chapter are my personal experiences losing my father. It has been cathartic to write this, but it's also been painful to reopen those wounds. That being said, there are trigger warnings on this chapter so please pay attention to them below.

T/W: character death, depression, anxiety, open dialogue about grieving.

We get so caught up in all of it

Business and relationships

Hundred-mile-an-hour lives

- Christmas Must Be Something More / Christmas Era / Taylor Swift

I should've asked you questions

I should've asked you how to be

Asked you to write it down for me

Should've kept every grocery store receipt

'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

- Marjorie / Evermore Era / Taylor Swift

She'd been having flashbacks all day. Not that she had known Matteo Micelli, but there was just something about fathers, she supposed. It had to be some universally accepted truth that once you lost a father, even the smallest, most insignificant trinket could remind you of them. Being immersed in Matteo's apartment full of knick knacks, clothing, and other personal items had given her a glimpse into his life. He'd lived in his apartment full of modest items, well loved furniture, pictures and records that clearly had been with him for years. There had been nothing extravagant that they had come across. In many ways, it was an apartment that spoke of someone who had been grateful for whatever little he had, with no expectations or desires for baubles and trinkets that were beyond his means.

More than once, she'd paused what she was doing to check in on Tony in one way or another. It had been clear from the moment that she'd entered the apartment that he was having a hard time with the process of packing and dealing with his father's personal effects. She'd suspected he would. It took being in the position of losing a parent to fully understand the emotional devastation that followed in the months and years after it. When Michael had lost his father, back when Jonathan had been just a toddler, she'd told him that the hardest thing in the world was losing a parent. It was a sentiment that she still felt was true all these years later.

Her father had always promised her that when he felt it was time, he would let her know. In the last weeks of his life, the days spent at the hospital had become a blur. Twelve hours a day, seven days a week, she'd made it a point to be there. It had been the most painful summer of her life, and when they'd lost him, it felt sudden and merciful all at once. It was a weird dichotomy. She'd battled with her feelings for months as she made her way through all five stages of grief. Relief mixed with feelings of guilt. Acceptance mixed with feelings of bitter loss.

She'd always wondered if it hurt more to lose a parent when someone was older or if she'd been lucky to lose her father when she'd been so young. Being a teenager was hard enough with Mona as her mother, but being the only girl in her grade at Montague Academy without a father, had been even worse. Her mother had been the one to keep herself together the best in the days that followed his loss. She'd been the stoic widow. Angela's mind had had the fucked up image of her mother as a pseudo Jackie Kennedy, standing strong in the face of adversity and not showing how broken hearted she truly was. While Angela had been unable to get out of bed in the immediate days after losing him, she'd finally pulled herself together enough to do the visitation and funeral mass. She knew he'd want her to stand tall next to her mother, a picture of familial solidarity. It hadn't been until after the ceremony and reception dinner, that Mona allowed herself to fall apart. She'd spent weeks spent in the basement, not seeing anyone, barely eating, sleeping the majority of the day. Those weeks had been the most formative of Angela's young life. She'd learned more about how to push through the pain in those dark days than she did in any of the days she'd experienced before or since.

In the hours that she'd spent with Tony in the apartment, she'd discovered that the simple fact was that age had nothing to do with how much it hurt. It was the amount of love shared between a parent and child that dictated the level of pain associated with the loss. Michael had bounced back effortlessly from the loss of his father, but they'd been estranged for years. It was so completely different for Tony. There was something deeply intimate in being with Tony as they'd packed his father's apartment up. It wasn't the first time that she'd seen a softer, vulnerable side to Tony Micelli, but it was the first time that she was able to truly understand the heartache he was experiencing. It had made checking in on him easier. She didn't need to ask if he was okay. It was evident he wasn't. Instead, she'd made sure to give him a glass of water, or to claim a seat next to him and listen to whatever story he wanted to share about random items in the apartment.

Once everything had been packed and sorted, she'd recognized that it was time for her to step back. This was his final time with his father's space. She'd carried the suitcase down to the van and had climbed in. That had been almost ten minutes earlier. She'd almost picked off all the nail polish from her thumb and had just started to pick at an errant hang nail when the driver's side door to the van opened and Tony set the box of albums on the seat. He looked up at her, the redness that lined his eyes a clear indicator that he'd taken the time she'd given him to confront his emotions. She licked her lips and swallowed the metaphorical lump on her throat with an audible gulp. An awkward silence filled the tension as she met his eyes with her own tear lined eyes. He dropped his eyes, letting them slide shut as his temple dropped to the cool metal of the door and his chest heaved in a silent sob.

He didn't register anything around him until her arms wrapped around him, pulling him into her warm embrace. His hands found purchase on her back as he buried his face into her neck, and as her cheek pressed to the top of his head, her own tears burning like fire as they slipped from her eyes and slipped down her cheeks to drip into his hair. She murmured soft cliches to him as she rocked them slowly side to side, in a slow dance of release and gently soothed him as his cries ebbed into hiccups and whimpers. She leaned back, looking at him as he did the same, each of them taking a deep breath. Her lips tilted up into a sad smile.

He mirrored her smile with one of his own and reached one hand up, swiping at the fresh tracks of her tears mixed with mascara with his thumb, stroking the flushed apples of her porcelain cheeks tenderly. His voice was rough as he spoke in a quiet tone to her. "Have I thanked you for being here with me?"

She nodded as she wiped at his tears with her fingertips and sniffled. "Several times." She chuckled softly and took a step back, wiping at her face then releasing a deep breath and clearing her throat. "It's been over twenty years and I can go days, weeks, months without breaking down. I can be fine one moment and then sometimes it's like getting kicked in the teeth out of nowhere." She tucked her hands into her coat pockets and shook her head. "I wish I could tell you that it's going to get easier but it won't."

He nodded and leaned back against the open driver' door. "Yeah. I know. I lost my mom when I was 7. I don't remember much about her, y'know. Mostly stories about her that my Dad would tell me, but I've got a few special gems. And losing Marie…"

She nodded as silence dominated for a long moment. "I was 14 when my father died. I was the first of my friends to lose a parent and it was…" she pushed a hand through her hair. "When you're surrounded by people who don't know what that kind of loss feels like it's difficult. Being an only child is sometimes a blessing but in those moments, it's the worst curse. No one to share the burden with. Mother and I had friends who helped but at the end of the day, it always felt like we were using people when we'd ask for help. Eventually, we hired a housekeeper and, well.." She gestured to him.

He grinned and scrubbed his hand over his face for a moment then grabbed the box of records. "I'm gonna put these in the back. You did good work in there, Ms. Bower. Think I can buy you dinner as a thank you?"

Her lips parted into a wide grin as she shrugged with one shoulder. "Depends what you had in mind."

"Aye oh. Don't get no ideas of something expensive. I'm talking like Pizza Palace or Bongo Burger."

Her eyebrow arched as she studied him. "I'm disappointed in you, Tony." She watched his eyes widen in surprise as he struggled to figure out why, and she could barely restrain her giggle. "We're in Brooklyn and you expect me to settle for a slice of pizza from Pizza Palace?" She tsked her tongue at him as she started to walk back to the passenger side but still called over her shoulder. "If you're not going to get me a slice of real New York pizza, don't bother."

Days later, with the children nestled all snug in their beds and with Mona off celebrating with her own personal Santa, Angela cradled her cup of boozy eggnog in her hands as she sat comfortably in the wing back chair staring at the dimly lit Christmas Tree while Tony lit the fireplace then took a seat in the chair opposite her. They hadn't talked about that day at his father's apartment since but she hadn't stopped thinking about it. She knew he'd enjoyed hearing his father's records played that morning after the gifts. After they'd danced, and he'd swung her around so effortlessly, she'd gone up to change into something that wasn't her silk pajamas and feathered slide on heels, while he'd gone into the kitchen to work on Christmas dinner. The record, however, had continued to play, and once it had finished, he'd replaced it with a different one. Big band music had filled her home for the majority of the day, but now, it was one of his father's old Rosemary Clooney records playing. Her contralto voice filled the room as she crooned Gershwin's Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered in low, seductive tones. Angela took a sip of her eggnog, then glanced up at him. "Tony?" He turned his head and looked up at her, the orangey glow of the fire reflecting in his dark eyes. She took a deep breath and set her cup on the table next to the chair. "I uh… I didn't want to give you this in front of the kids and mother. But I… I do have one last gift for you."

She could imagine the sexually explicit comments her mother would be making if she heard her and did her best to hide her blush as she stood from her chair and headed into her study. She pulled the wrapped, long, thin box from a desk drawer and fluffed the bow with her fingers nervously. She hadn't bought something this personal for someone in a long time. Michael had never cared much for gifts. He'd called anything she purchased 'more bullshit'. She'd wanted to do something extra for Tony, and she hoped it wouldn't be something that he'd consider too personal.

She closed the study door behind her as she returned to the living room and came to stand in front of him. She handed him the box and reclaimed her seat. She watched as he fingered the red ribbon, before he carefully unwrapped it. Unlike all of the other gifts she'd presented to everyone earlier in the day, this box was clearly not wrapped by a professional. It lacked the sparkly paper and all the impressive swirls and labels. A simple, stuck on red bow on white paper was all the clue he needed know that she'd wrapped this one personally. He lifted the lid off the box and frowned in confusion before he looked up at her. "A gold chain?"

She nodded as she picked at her nail nervously. "For your watch."

He glanced back down at it, tracing the thin gold line with his index finger. "My…"

She took a deep breath and leaned forward. "Well, your father's watch. I… I noticed it didn't have one and if you're going to wear it or use it, I'd hate for you to lose it." The idea had come to her last minute when she'd been in the city the day before Christmas Eve. She'd been casually passing a jewelry store when she'd made the decision to run in and see what they recommended. Knowing he liked the chain and had been touched by her spontaneous decision, made all the anxiety she's been experiencing worth it. He set the box to the side, then stood and took slow steps towards her. Her head tilted all the way back as he came to stand in front of her and held his hand out to her. It had become almost second nature for her to so easily trust him, and she slipped her hand into his as she stood, leaving their bodies close enough that his chest brushed hers with each inhale.

"Thank you." His voice was almost a whisper as he squeezed her hand before he curled her into a deep hug. She sighed in relief as he held her for several long moments. He'd hung a few of the items he'd taken from his father's place in his room. Her comment to bring his father back to Connecticut to be with his family had made an impact on him and he was trying his best to find ways to do that. Angela had even given him a few ideas and then she'd surprised him by playing one of his father's records that morning. He'd noticed that Angela didn't often do big gestures. She showed her support, her thoughtfulness in little ways that showed how intently she listened to the people around her, and it made her enchanting. He'd been feeling the pull to her growing stronger in recent weeks.

Ever since she'd called him a hero to Wanda during her cocktail party, he'd felt like something had changed between them. Then that big dope Jeffrey had managed to cause a fight between them. It hadn't been their first, and Tony had a sneaky suspicion it wouldn't be the last, but it had been one that had shaken him up. He hated to admit it, but it had been the first real time he'd felt protective of her and, though he'd deny it to anyone else, he could admit to himself that he'd been jealous of Jeffrey. He didn't know what it meant in terms of the job, their friendship, the future. It was unthinkable to risk doing anything, but standing with her close like this with the warm, amber glow of the fire illuminating her, he had to admit that it was difficult to resist.

He took a step back from her and rubbed his chest with his palm before heading back to his chair, finding safety in the distance between them. He picked up his glass of eggnog and held it up toward her, "To Christmas with the family."

She grinned as she settled into her chair and raised her glass to him. "The way it should be."

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

You were bigger than the whole sky

You were more than just a short time

And I've got a lot to pine about

I've got a lot to live without

- Bigger Than The Whole Sky / Midnights Era / Taylor Swift

And if I didn't know better

I'd think you were talking to me now

If I didn't know better

I'd think you were still around

What died didn't stay dead

What died didn't stay dead

You're alive, you're alive in my head

- Marjorie / Evermore Era / Taylor Swift